While Michael chats with the park ranger at the information desk, in yet another National Park Visitor Center, on yet another day of discovery, I look at the many colonial themed items that are for sale. Eventually winding up in front of a large display of Colonial and British soldiers. They remind me of the tiny metal figures I have at home, in a box especially made by Michael to house my collection.

Memories

I purchased those miniature toys with their flags and guns and drums for my grandchildren to play with when they came to visit. The very first two to see those tiny warriors were Heather’s children, Kevin and Owen. They were quite young at that point in time. Perhaps Kevin was five, maybe six, and Owen was two years younger.

I hid in the hallway, watching them set the toy figures up in a line, then they put their small hands over their big hearts and recited the pledge of allegiance to the flag. I smiled then; I smile at that memory still.

Lunch

We discover that the next tour of the three Adam’s homes—his birthplace, the home where he lived as a young lawyer with his family, and the large house where he spent his last years and died—is not until 3 pm.  We have plenty of time to view the introductory film, still eat lunch, and to nose around Quincy for a bit.

Lunch finds us at a pizza joint adjacent to the Visitor Center where we are served a fresh handmade white pizza with sausage. Either I am starved, or it is delicious.  If only I had wine to wash everything down.

Church of the Presidents

We cross the street and visit the Church of the Presidents, the United First Parish Church with a Unitarian Universalist congregation. Both John Adams and his son, John Quincy Adams are buried here. We don’t have time to take a tour of the crypt but instead, wander at will in the church’s interior. Lovely in its simplicity, I walk to a window and look out at the old town of Quincy.

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Before returning to the park’s visitor center and boarding the trolley for our tour, we cross the street once again and inspect the old cemetery. The lawn is strewn with leaves that have fallen from the crimson and golden trees. In another month, the grass will be totally obscured.

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John Adams The Three Homesteads in Quincy

Adams Birthplace

The home where Adam’s lived as a young married lawyer is literally a stone’s throw from his birthplace. The park rangers divide our group of twenty into two groups of ten; our little band of tourists are assigned to begin at the beginning. The ranger who guides us is extremely knowledgeable, and she tries to pass all of that knowledge to us, as it pertains to Adam’s early life.

I am surprised to learn that John Adam’s was not a good student but instead played hooky, with his parent’s knowledge, most of the time. The problem with young John was that apparently he was smarter than his teachers, and was bored out of his mind. Plus, he wanted to be a farmer. Obviously, his father stepped in at one point in John’s life, found a more challenging teacher, and as a result he was set on the path to greatness.

His First Home with His Wife Abigail

The land surrounding both farms turned into urban development, but the homes are remarkably well cared for, continually restored, re-shingled and re-nailed. We are told they look as they did when John Adams lived here centuries ago.

Peacefield

A short bus ride away, but still in Quincy, sits the elegant old home where John Adams lived in his later life. Not only was Peacefield, the home and farm of John Adams and his wife, Abigail; it was also the home of his son, John Quincy Adams and his wife Louisa and their son Charles, and Charles’ son who was a historian and built his father a stone library to house his collection of books. Apparently, the number of volumes in this room where we now stand is 12,000.

I don’t think he read all of them.

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The library is amazing; the house breathtakingly lovely. Once again, we have a remarkable guide, another park ranger with the National Park Service. (I become more and more impressed with the park service and the quality and knowledge of the individuals they employ.)

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I am very familiar with John Adams, our second president, but know little to nothing about John Qunicy Adams, his son, and the sixth president of the United States. He was an unpopular president, but apparently brilliant; beginning his life in public service at the age of ten, and running for (and being elected to) the house of representatives after he lost his bid for a second term as president.

Dinner

It will be too late to even think about cooking by the time we return to Plymouth, so Michael asks me to look for a restaurant in Duxbury. I come up with a great one. However, even though we find the one space left in the parking lot when we arrive, the restaurant is filled to overflowing and the wait list is as long as it will take to get to Plymouth. So, we decide to go to Plymouth, the town of more than 150 restaurants. Surely there will be something available there.

After another abortive try, we decide to choose a restaurant that looks halfway empty. The Lobster Hut fills the bill. You order at the counter, find a seat and pick up your food when the number is called.

Michael orders clams and scallops while I opt for fish and shrimp. My basket of food is good, his is delicious. I’ need to start following Michael’s lead.